Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(48)
“They have to go, pumpkin,” the man murmured.
“Enjoy your meal and your vacation,” Sam said, curling an arm around my shoulders and guiding me away. “My best to your boy, yeah?” Sam finished, his eyes on the man.
“Yeah. Thank you Mr. Cooper,” the man returned.
Sam tipped up his chin to him then to the woman but he did this while continuing to lead me away.
Then we were gone.
The restaurant was a ten minute walk from our hotel. We’d been walking two when the noise came from my throat because I couldn’t continue choking back my laughter.
“I know, f**k,” Sam muttered, totally with me.
“She hugged you,” I forced out, all three words sounding strangled.
“I know,” Sam repeated then, “Fuck.”
I couldn’t hold it back anymore, I giggled.
Sam’s arm around my shoulders gave me a squeeze, I tipped my head to look at his profile and saw him smiling.
Then I faced forward again, controlled my hilarity and asked, “Now does that happen all the time?”
“People gettin’ that in my space?” Sam asked back.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck no,” he answered then finished on a mutter, “Thank Christ.”
I giggled again.
Then I sobered as something hit me, it was unpleasant, scary even… and weird.
“Uh… Sam?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask you something?”
That got me another arm squeeze and an, “Anything, baby.”
I pulled in a breath.
Then I reminded him, “I borderline internet stalked you.”
His voice was filled with humor when he replied, “Kia, honey, the shit you spouted last night, nothin’ ‘borderline’ about it.”
Uh-oh.
“Well then –” I started but stopped when Sam stopped our progress, turned me to facing him then pulled me loosely in both arms.
“Different,” he whispered when my eyes caught his.
“How?”
“You remember how we met?”
Uh… yeah. I’d never forget. Never, ever, ever.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t talk to you would you have talked to me?”
Ah. I saw his point.
“No,” I said quietly.
“Right, no. You wouldn’t have talked to me. Definitely not asked me for a picture and absolutely you wouldn’t have pressed up against me.”
This was true.
“Though,” he grinned down at me, “even if you had, I wouldn’t have minded you doin’ it.”
“Sam,” I whispered.
“Seriously,” he said as he kept grinning.
I rolled my eyes.
Sam kept speaking after his grin faded and his face got serious.
“So. Different,” he whispered. “You were respecting my privacy.”
“Actually, I was terrified of you.”
He grinned again.
“Either way works for me.”
I rolled my eyes again.
Then I rolled them back and asked, “So it doesn’t creep you out that one of my best friends has a cardboard cutout of you?”
“Fuck no,” he answered immediately. “I get a cut of that shit. She probably paid for a six pack of beer.”
At his words, I burst out laughing.
When I quit laughing, Sam was smiling down at me.
Then he asked, “You got a room at home wallpapered with my pictures?”
“Uh… no,” I answered.
“You ever send me sick ass letters describing the house we’d live in, the pets we’d have, the names of all our children, goin’ into detail about how we’d make those kids?”
Ick!
“Definitely no,” I told him.
“A shrine?”
I started giggling but shook my head and repeated, “No.”
He let me go with one arm and turned us on our way again, muttering, “Then we’re good.”
I walked beside him, my arm around his waist and asked, “Have you received letters like that?”
“Yeah.”
Ohmigod.
My head jerked to look up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, pre-Army, had a woman, she sent me at least a hundred of them.”
Okay, now that was creepy. I was now seeing there were degrees.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” I told him.
“I didn’t either. I just didn’t reply. It died when I quit playin’ ball and never came back. She probably found some other guy who plays ball to fixate on.”
“Doesn’t that creep you out?”
“Absolutely.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“I don’t. Not anymore. Got an agency who reads that shit, sends me what I need to see, files the rest.”
Hmm. Interesting.
I got another arm squeeze before Sam said softly, “You should know, Tilda gets a wild hair, pictures of you and me at a restaurant in Lake Como, wrapped up together, sittin’ close…” he trailed off and I stopped dead.
This was because I knew what he meant.
She could sell them to someone or even just put them on a social network site and they’d spread like wildfire.